What Dreams May Come
by Trupana
Summary: AU (Aoshi-Meg) He comes to Megumi in vivid dreams, introducing her to a beautiful world beyond her imagination. But what happens when when she no longer wants to wake up?
1. Entrance

            Her head fell to her chest, and she forced herself, albeit unwillingly, to snap her head back to its upright position.  It would not do to fall asleep on the subway.  

            It had been more painfully tiring day than usual.  Then again, hadn't she expected residency to be this difficult?  Hadn't she known that becoming a doctor would involve sacrifice?  She really had no right to complain.

            But, it _had been an unusually difficult day.  Megumi Takani, now officially a third-year resident, had been up since 3 a.m. Monday, working a 48 hour shift.  She glanced at the delicate Movado watch strapped on her wrist.  The slender hands indicated a time nearer to 4 a.m.  A small window cut in the opalescent face of the watch revealed the abbreviation 'Weds.'.  Groaning, Megumi rested her head against the metal railing and closed her eyes briefly.  _

Heavens, she was _tired.    _

The subway pulled to a stop, and a tinny voice sleepily announced her stop over the intercom.  Shaking herself from her shallow slumber, Megumi grabbed her large messenger bag and hauled herself up to her feet with the help of the steel rail.  

She barely missed having the subway doors close on her, but she was too out of it to notice.  "Twelve more minutes," she told herself, feet dutifully treading past the few yawning people waiting on the benches, up the stairs, onto the lamp-lit New York streets, "just twelve more minutes and I can fall in my nice cozy bed…"

A trashy young teen girl, dressed in a nylon vest and polyester miniskirt, gawked at her out of the corner of her eye, looking at her mockingly as though she were crazy.  Megumi was tempted to snap, "What?  Can't I have the luxury to talk to myself after working for 48 hours straight and running my body down to the skeleton at a hospital where people never cease getting hurt and etc., etc., etc."

Megumi decided it wasn't worth the effort, and settled for a dark glare.

            The rest of the walk home passed by in a cold, dark blur, with the occasional cat call of some rowdy drunk frat boy, blare of car horns, and of course, the steady robotic slapping of her feet on the pavement as they subconsciously carried her home.  

            She struggled to get her keys out of her oversized purse, and sleepily dropped them on the cement.  Letting out a piercing hiss of breath, she went down on all knees, feeling for the keys while shivering in the increasingly biting wind.  Finally, after an exasperatingly long search, her fingers touched hard cold metal.  She gratefully picked the keys up, and after a few tries, managed to jam the right key into the door and unlock the entrance.

            As her luck would have it, the elevator wasn't working.  Again.  For the fifth time that month.  So Megumi made the long pilgrimage up the narrow staircase, heavy bag in tow, to the tenth floor.  Which happened to be the highest floor in the building.  It gave her a nice view of the surrounding neighborhood, but at the moment, her aching arms and burning thighs could have cared less.

            After dropping her keys again while trying to open her apartment door, Megumi stumbled bleary eyed into the place she called home.  Despite her busy, hectic life, she managed to keep her apartment fairly clean and orderly; there was just something about coming back to a messy house that made her cringe.  Leaning back on the door and effectively forcing the door shut, Megumi slid her fingers around the wooden door until they felt a cool copper lock.  She quickly turned the knob, and with fingers scrambling clumsily around the wood, found and fastened the deadbolt.  Then she slid down the door to a sitting position, quietly observing the spotless living room and kitchen bathed in the moonlight streaming through the windows.  She slowly exhaled a sigh of relief.

            _Home._

            She desperately wanted to drop in her bed and sleep like a rock, but her doctor side goaded her into drowsily brushing her teeth and half-heartedly splashing her face with water before she walked into her bedroom.

            The room was small, and the bed wasn't like the soft, big one back in her home in Japan, but it was freshly-washed, neat, and more than enough for her needs at the moment.  She flopped down onto the bed, kicking off her uncomfortable black pumps and dropping her bag and coat on the soft carpet.  

            "Mmmmm…"

            She wriggled herself under the warm down blanket, relishing the feel of the cotton sheets and resilient mattress against her body.  As sleep began to wash over her, her eyelashes fluttered closed, and she fleetingly remembered sleeping in a large, silk-sheeted feather bed, with her father's gentle baritone painting pictures of princes and spells and old Japanese palaces, her mother's soft hand stroking her silky hair, her brother sitting next to her on the bed and holding her hand when she was scared of the dark.

            _I miss you Father, Mother.  I wish you would come back.  Kei, oniichan, I wish I could go home and see you once again.  I want to go back to __Japan__, watch the stars and the moon dance across night sky…_

            The last thing she saw before she succumbed to sleep was the round brightness of the full moon, peering through the window and its gauzy curtains and smiling upon her face.

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            Her eyes opened with a start, and she glanced wildly about her.  Was she awake?  Was it morning?  No, it couldn't be.  The same full moon beamed down at her from the dark sky.  

            Just as her heart slowed its racing, she reeled back with another shock.  There was no window framing the glowing moon.  She was standing up, no longer in a recumbent position.  The bed was gone; in its place was a cool alabaster platform.  A warm breeze blew by, playing with the floating sleeves and silk folds of the lavender kimono—_what lavender kimono? Since when did she own one?_—and bearing the pungent scent of sakura trees nearby.  The stars were clearly visible, standing out against a velvet black sky.  No skyscrapers or bright lights blocked them from view.  

            The young woman gasped again as she spotted intricately designed Japanese buildings surrounding the expansive garden she was currently in.  The beautiful buildings, red with gold and black gilding, connected together with complex black lacquer bridges, and topped with elegantly-curved roofs, seemed straight out of the descriptions of the ancient Japanese palaces her father used to tell her about.  

She took an unbelieving step backwards.  It couldn't be.  Her throat constricted, her hand went to her chest.  She took another step backwards only to realize that there was no more marble platform to walk on, and she fell, cringing, waiting for the ground to hit…

            Before she could scream, a strong pair of arms and a solid chest caught her and lowered her to the ground.  As soon as she managed to regain her balance and stand firmly on the misty grass, she swiftly turned around to meet her rescuer.

            A pair of icy blue eyes blazed into her mahogany ones.   __

For a minute, all she saw was the intense eyes burning into her own.  She could do nothing but stare, mouth slightly gaping.  She had never seen such profound, such smoldering, such _blue, eyes in her entire life._

Then, the man's eyes closed, and he knelt stiffly on one knee before her, as though unused to such a position.  His ebony bangs slid over his eyes like a veil as he inclined his head to the ground in a formal, rigid bow.  Then, with one smooth motion, the man returned to his feet, looking down at her.  The moonlight revealed a chiseled face with high cheekbones, a regal nose, and a strong jaw.  He was taller than her, powerful lean figure encased in dark gi and cape, save for the gold insignia that hung over his chest.  The black hair veiling his eyes thinned as he stepped back to a respectful distance from her, revealing his entrancing blue eyes again.  

Megumi, still shocked, could not move her tongue or even find the appropriate words to say to such a man and at such strange behavior.  Her usually articulate, sharp mind was swimming in circles.  

_A prince, just as Father described in the stories…_  

Once again, the man bowed, but from a standing position, arm crossed over his strong chest, bent over from the torso, head curved downwards in acknowledgement.  As he stood up to his full height, his eyes pierced into her and he broke the strange silence with his low, formal tone.

"Lady of the Night, I come to ask your advice." 

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Hope you enjoyed the fic.  Hmmm, whoever could that mysterious man be?  : P  I'm sure you all know.  Writing short chapters for the first time was really fun…I'm sure that I'll update faster as a result!  Read and review please!

~Trupana


	2. Truth and Consequences

__

Rurouni Kenshin does not belong to me, blah, blah, blah. Sure, take that dream away from me too… 

In which we find out what the Lady of the Night really is, and why this hunk of a stranger is calling her that. And no, the Lady of the Night is not a prostitute…

_ What Dreams May Come _

_ 2 _

_ Truth and Consequences _

__

What?! 

Megumi shook her head and fought the dark wave of dizziness that had just washed over her.

_Lady of the night? Whatever did he mean? Is he insane? Or am I going crazy?_

Her eyes flickered wildly, taking in the majestic ancient palace again, then the luminous marble pedestal from which she fell, the vibrant cherry blossoms carpeting the dewy ground, then resting finally on the icy, attractive man in front of her.

What she meant to do was to demand in the frostiest, haughtiest voice she could summon, "What do you mean, Lady of the Night?"

What came out was a sudden, shrill scream.

Despite receiving the full brunt of the scream, the prince's face remained impassive. He was much too composed, though his eyebrows drew together imperceptibly. He started towards her, hand reaching out to support her, but the wide-eyed, confused woman only backed away.

In her scrambling backwards, Megumi forgot that she was wearing a gorgeous, beautiful, and highly inconvenient kimono. She stepped on its long silk train and slipped. In a desperate attempt to stop her fall, she turned slightly in midair to put her arms out to absorb the shock.

Instead of meeting grass as she expected, she fell—once again—onto a firm, solid chest.

_ Talk about déjà vu. _

Gasping, face infusing with red, she clung to the prince's dark top with both hands, and babbled the first thing that came to her mind.

"I—I'm…not a lady." She panted, struggling to pull herself up using her grip on the prince's shirt. Her pillar of support suddenly shook ever so slightly. She looked up at the prince strangely. Did he just…?

The prince's face remained ever expressionless, but the corners of his lips had quirked up faintly—stunned at the appearance of the small smile, Megumi's frozen brain could only note that it was probably something that he did not do often, as it looked rusty upon use, as though it had not been used in a while—and amusement was obvious in the cold crystal eyes.

"I can tell." His words cut dryly—was he trying to make a joke?—as he looked pointedly down at her. She glanced, noting with a blush that she was sprawled against his strong chest in a rather undignified position. Megumi huffed, half-embarrassed, half-annoyed, and ignoring his politely offered assistance, struggled to her feet with one last final pull. She noted with both aesthetic regret and sadistic satisfaction that his impeccable black top was now wrinkled from her clawing.

Served him right.

Once she had enough time to compose herself and preserve some semblance of dignity, Megumi threw her head back and glared at the prince haughtily.

"Where am I? What is this? Who are you, and why do you keep calling me 'Lady of the Night'?" Her voice, which had started in a calm, perfectly dignified tone, rose to a feverish pitch, and Megumi was afraid that, despite surviving the sight of many a gory emergency room operation, she would be at risk of fainting for the first time in her life.

"No need to scream, Lady." A ghost of a smile passed his lips as Megumi glared at him again. "If you told me your name, then maybe I wouldn't have to call you Lady, mi'lady."

She was still disoriented and confused, and she damn well didn't like those feelings. "I don't tell my name to strangers." Megumi retorted, feeling the blood rush back to her head. Her usual presence of mind returned as she took in a deep breath.

Sarcasm felt much more familiar, much better.

The man cocked an eyebrow elegantly, but he stiffly bowed and commented coolly, "Forgive my impropriety, Lady. I forgot that I needed an introduction…" Megumi bristled at the faint shade of arrogance in his words, but the prince went on with a stoic calm, "I am Shinomori Aoshi, a—leader of this realm."

"A leader?" Megumi asked curiously, before she could stop the words from spilling out from her tongue. She bit her lower lip, aware of the rudeness of her question. Despite circumstances, Takani Megumi was always, first and foremost, a lady.

"A prince." The man replied without inflection or emotion or nuance. His stone face displayed no hint of conceit or aloofness, so that she could not have accused him of egotism if she tried. Only his cold blue eyes displayed any emotion, and it was only one of indifferent acknowledgment and of dedicated duty to that acknowledgment.

Those ice-clear eyes glanced at her with a questioning expression, and Megumi flushed suddenly and snapped her eyes away from his face. Feeling the heat rush to her face, she groaned inwardly. He was waiting for her to introduce herself, and she had been staring like a fool. How long had she been standing there, studying him as though he were a glass-encased specimen?

_ Oh, but what a magnificent specimen, indeed… _

Megumi stifled those dangerous thoughts quickly, but not before a pink hue tinged her hot cheeks. Pretending to smooth a wrinkle in her violet kimono with trembling fingers, she hid her face behind a silk veil of ebony strands and took a moment to compose herself.

Once her face felt less hot, she drew a breath, flipped her hair, and turning to face him with a sarcastic slice of a smile, replied with equal iciness, "My name is Takani Megumi, I am a doctor of my 'realm', and I would like to know why I am here, Shinomori no Ouji." She hid an impertinent smile as "Shinomori no Ouji" winced almost imperceptibly at the name. Obviously it had hit a chord in the seemingly unassailable man. Widening her eyes innocently as he glared at her, she added breezily, voice laced with biting wit, "You don't like that name? Would Aoshi-sama better? Or maybe Tsurara-san?" She lowered her eyes demurely and glanced slyly at Shinomori through long lashes, inwardly shocked at her own behavior. Where had this mischievous playfulness and irresistible urge to tease the imposingly frigid and dangerous man come from? And especially at a time like this...

"Shinomori-san is fine, Takani-sensei," he finally replied, in a tone that clearly indicated that "Shinomori-san" was the only option that would be tolerated. If Megumi were less foolhardy when it came to flirting with danger, she might have been afraid of the ice in his voice. But despite the gravity in his baritone voice, her sharp eyes detected a ghost of a quirk at the corner of his straight, firm lips, and she knew she wasn't in any danger…yet.

_ I wonder what it takes to make him smile _ …

She straightened to her full height, and with a hidden smile dancing on her own lips, placed her hands on her slender hips.

"You haven't answered my other question yet—Shinomori-_san_." Megumi questioned playfully, using the suffix like a nickname, with less formality and more cheekiness than the title allowed. A shadow of a wince cast itself across the prince's face before it reverted to its usual impassive mask. She stifled the urge to laugh in his face.

Dropping all pretences, she turned serious, smile dropping and eyes resting solemnly on the man in front of her.

"Why am I here?" she asked softly. The bright moon cast a soft light on the man's cold, chiseled features as he strode gracefully to the small black bridge nearby. She followed, treading lightly on the unearthly soft strands of grass, feeling the silky sakura petals brush against her arm as they floated like a dream around her.

He was leaning back on the rail, arms crossed, and he studied the bubbling, crystal brook catching the moonbeams in its cascading streams. He closed his eyes, and the strong profile of his face, touched by moonlight, stood out with an almost peaceful expression against the star-studded sky.

"In ancient times, the realm of Meigetsu was in great distress. Life," he said in a low voice, opening his bright blue eyes to look unwaveringly into her confused ones, "was unbearable; wars ravaged the scorched land, the people were despairing and dying like flies. There was no peace anywhere. And the king of Meigetsu tried all that he could to save his people, but he could not. He himself had given up all his wealth to his people, but it was no use. The devastation continued.

Then one night, a woman appeared in front of his humble hut, a woman disguised as a beggar. He treated her kindly, giving her all the hospitality that he could offer: a loaf of bread, a ragged blanket, a gourd of water. Then, it was the custom of kings to give gifts to all honored guests. And this kindly king gave this woman a gift, the only thing of value that he had left. It was a small marble statue of his wife, who had mysteriously disappeared before his eyes. Though he was reluctant to give up such a precious reminder of the one he loved, he gave it willingly to the beggar.

The stranger was touched by this, and lifted her disguise to reveal a beautiful and wise woman. She was gifted with the ability to heal the land and bring peace to those who were truly worthy. And this king's sacrifice was enough to invoke the magical wellspring inside of her. In the starlight and moonlight, she stood outside and touched the ground. Immediately, the land was healed, the people restored, the borders safe. Instead of the king's little shack stood a huge palace, all red and gold and black. In the center of the sprawling complex was a large, winding and beautiful, like the one the former queen had been so fond of tending.

And in the center was a beautiful alabaster pedestal, with nothing on top. As the king reached out to the woman in overwhelmed gratitude, the woman stopped him and said,

"I know your heart is good, and this is less than you deserve. All I ask is that every night, you prevent all from coming into the garden, but you yourself come to this platform, and you will see me and talk with me. For I am lonely and my life is hard as my burdens are heavy. And as long as you continue to do this, I will continue to protect and replenish the land, so that it is a thousand-fold greater than it was before."

Even as she spoke, the sun's rays touched the horizon, and the woman was drawn slowly towards the platform. Before his eyes, the woman disappeared much like his wife had, and all that remained was a statue, looking so lifelike and so alive that he could only be amazed. Then his eyes were opened and he realized that the woman had been his wife, taken away from him to another world, who had sacrificed her happiness with him so that she could come back in a melancholy half-life and save him and his people. And the king cried, in happiness and in sadness, for his beloved wife. And from then on, every night, he barred all doors and windows to the gardens, and went to the garden alone to spend as much time as he could with the woman he loved. And she watched over him and his people, protected the peace of the land, and made it fertile and whole again. And she was known through the land as the Lady of the Night.

Ever since then, every ruler has had a Lady of the Night, a guardian and advisor who only appears at night who blesses the land with a single gift that is uniquely hers. As the rulers rise and change, so does the Lady of the Night. The Lady of the Night is the guardian of the peace and prosperity of the realm. Without her, the country would be torn to pieces."

He paused, and she saw him examine her with faint interest and question in his icy blue eyes, his cool gaze grazing across her features and down the slender, graceful lines of her kimono. She shivered slightly under the gaze, hands clenching the violet silk self-consciously. There was something about him that threw her off balance…

Turning his eyes back to the stars, he continued in the low, musical tone, and Megumi was once again caught up in the unearthly beauty of the voice and the flowing, magical tale that it was weaving,

"She appears at night, given life by starlight and soul by moonlight, confined by nothing but the borders of the palace. None may touch her or harm her, and only those whom she chooses to reveal herself to may see her. Only the ruler of the realm, the prince and king of the realm, will always be aware of her presence, for he and she are equal in power and spirit. By night they may interact, but when the stars disappear and the moon fades away, before the sun's golden rays touch the horizon, she is drawn back to her world. And what remains is her statue, carved in marble, unmoving and unmovable, until star and moon restore her to life again." He closed his eyes, and an unfathomable serenity fell over his face.

There was a calm silence, interrupted only by the soft wind playing with the delicate snow of petals and the silky strands of Megumi's hair. The magic of the story hung thick in the air like the heady, fresh fragrance of the blooming flowers. Megumi's lips parted softly, and she murmured as she gently pushed the inky strands back behind her ear.

"That's a beautiful story…"

The ice blue eyes opened. 

"It's not a story. This is the realm of Meigetsu. You are the Lady of the Night. And you were chosen to be my guide." He regarded her with cool accepting respect in his cold eyes. Suddenly he reached out to hold her hand; jerked out of the entrancing spell of the tale, and shocked by the sudden spark that ran through her at his unexpected warm touch, Megumi jumped back, eyes wide and indignant.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed, attempting to pull her hand from his. She tried to ignore the faint blush that sprang her face. What was wrong with her? She tried to push his hand off hers with her other hand, but his grip was strong and the strange, serene, concentrated, unfocused look in his blue eyes caught her off guard.

Suddenly, their joined hands were glowing, an ethereal aura of color enveloping their hands. Around hers the light glowed violet with summer-warmth and it drifted towards the light of his hand, an icy blue that held in it the purity of winter. As Megumi watched the light show in undisguised fascination, the blue light drew towards the violet light as well. The light met; they did not mix, as the violet light seemed to resist that of the blue, which grew less and less icy as it surrounded the violet. Then the violet light gave, absorbing some of the pure chill of the blue and giving up some of its warmth; the blue gave its cool and lit with warmth. It continued until the lights were only one color, a beautiful, serene violet-blue that seemed to shimmer and shift back and forth in color as she watched, entranced. Only then did the prince, who had closed his eyes, let go of her hand and look at her with such an open look in his eyes that she was astonished to see it.

"Your gift, Takani-sensei, is truly…" he paused, looking for the proper words to say, "complex. Your main gift, as I guessed, is your ability to heal, not land, but people. I am guessing that in your other world, you have an unusual skill and ability to restore and revive those that are beyond hope, those that others cannot heal." Megumi gaped as she contemplated this insight and realized that this had been gnawing at the back of her mind throughout her medical career; indeed, throughout her life.

He continued, with more than a little amazement in his monotone voice, "But only here can you fully use your power as you ought to, to heal with barely a touch, with your voice or your mind if you train yourself to. You have great power. But that is not the complete extent of your abilities…" his steel eyes looked straight into her eyes, boring straight into her staggered mind, "your abilities rival that of the first Lady, perhaps even surpass hers, if you learn to harness your powers."

They stood there in perfect silence. Megumi's mind refused to work.

_ This is crazy. Insane. Impossible. _

_ I'm going crazy… _

_ And yet…why does it seem so true? _

"Takani-sensei, are you all right?" The prince looked with faint concern in his crystal eyes.

He moved towards her; she withdrew, backing down away from the bridge and towards the pedestal. Turned around and ran. Ran as fast as she could to the pedestal. He caught up with her, grasping her forearm firmly but gently. He turned her to face him, so she was almost encircled in the strong arms once again. The warmth of his body so close to her made her almost long to rest against his chest and cry out the confusion and frustration that she'd held all her life, of a world that had been her world for twenty-six years but never felt as real as this imaginary one...

Instead, she resisted, and all she could do was laugh hysterically.

He stood there watching her, with a strange look in his cold blue eyes. She laughed and laughed until it was too painful and the tears started coming out of her eyes. She wiped them angrily away and jerked away from him.

"I'm going crazy." She said to him plainly, with a suggestion of a smile plastered on her face, with whatever remained of her dignity. "My life must really be getting to me…maybe it's remnants of my psychiatry rotation manifesting itself in my subconscious." She laughed again, mirthlessly. She had never been entirely convinced of the legitimacy of Freudian psychology, but there was nothing else with which to explain this extraordinary situation. "I'm hallucinating."

He reached out, long fingers gently grazing her cheek and wiping away a tear that had escaped her notice. His touch was so warm and so real…too real.

"This is no hallucination. It is as real as you and me."

_ As real as you and me… _

Megumi stopped, clenched her jaw. She opened her mouth to let loose a sarcastic doubt about the reality of a certain person, but then she saw it.

Amber playing along the horizon.

The hand on her arm closed around thin air. The hand on her cheek fell down in an arc, through her body.

An invisible force, a hand, was pulling her, propelling her onto the center of marble platform. With a mesmerized horror, she saw rather than felt her feet turn to stone, so lifelike yet immovable, then her ankles; the stone continued to eat up her body, surrounding her slender form. It felt as though her spirit was slowly being drawn from one plane of existence to another, so that there was no feeling or movement remained where her spirit had disappeared from this plane, only frigid emptiness. It was not unlike being slowly siphoned through a funnel, down a drain, to some cold, black vacuum, to something that did not exist.

She saw her hands turn to marble at her sides, and felt the painful, freezing emptiness crawling up her back. She looked out and saw the prince's emotionless face sparked indistinctly with something blankly troubled and wordlessly stunned.

The usually steel blue eyes were molten.

They were the last thing she saw as the empty blackness claimed her as its own.

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Warm.

Something warm enveloped her long limbs, and something warm played on her face.

Her eyes fluttered open with a start, and she glanced wildly about her.

Sunlight streamed through the floating curtains, bathing her in warmth. The wooden floorboards glowed almost golden; the bare walls were luminous. Though the thin walls and open window trailed in the noise of early morning vendors and businessmen.

She threw off the warm covers, to find with relief a warm, mobile, _flesh _body, encased by a wrinkled, disheveled lavender blouse and black work skirt. A smile lit her face briefly.

But then it hit her hard, unforgiving and harsh, and the smile fell from her face as she dropped back onto the bed, staring at the stucco ceiling.

It was her room.

It was New York.

It was her world.

_ It had been a dream. _

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Heh. Told you I would update this next. About time, eh?

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this. Please read and review, since any comments and constructive criticisms are very much appreciated.

Also, check out my other story Masquerade, an AU story with Megumi as Enishi's sister and Aoshi as her bodyguard (I know AzaleaFaye did something like this before, but trust me, this is going to be different). Yes, shameless self-promoting, but I don't have to pay for advertisement fees this way. Here's the detailed summary for that story:

When a single fight destroyed his life, Shinomori Aoshi of the Oniwabanshu left behind his past, his soul, and his heart, with no hope of any future. Then one day, the heartless Aoshi is recruited by the infamous Yukishiro Enishi to protect his most precious treasure: his sister Yukishiro Megumi, a beautiful, flirtatious, and equally cold-hearted siren who delights in breaking the hearts of men. Slowly, the like-minded Megumi and Aoshi find in each other someone in whom to confide. But when Aoshi eventually falls in love with the hardhearted Megumi, he finds that he has barely scratched the surface of the mystery that is the Yukishiros's tortured past, and that Megumi may not be as callous as she seems…

Anyway, hope you keep reading!

…until we meet again…

Tru


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